


Let's Go Together

by blcwriter



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Families of Choice, Graduation, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Pack Feels, Tumblr Prompts, magic!Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blcwriter/pseuds/blcwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://lettersfromeleanorrigby.tumblr.com/post/46219064091/for-the-drabbles-remember-me-or-zip-me-please-if-you#notes>Fill</a>%20for%20a%20">Fill</a> for a "Zip me" prompt from mintybunnies at my tumblr.</p><p>“I can’t go out there…” Stiles stammered, his hands shaking as he washed the worst of the arch-demon’s blood off.  ”We’ve got to get rid of the body, Jesus, the dignitaries are going to be coming through here on the way back, there’s so much goddamned blood…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Go Together

“I can’t go out there…” Stiles stammered, his hands shaking as he washed the worst of the arch-demon’s blood off. ”We’ve got to get rid of the body, Jesus, the dignitaries are going to be coming through here on the way back, there’s so much goddamned blood…”

“Calm down,” Deaton ordered. He reached down into that same leather satchel he always seemed to pull out of nowhere, like he was Hermione Granger, and pulled out fresh shirts, dark trousers, a tie, then more to toss at the rest of the group. ”Change. Over there. I’ll take care of the mess.” 

Stiles took the quickest shower known to man as did Derek, while Boyd held down the last demon and Lydia stood outside the salt circle, banishing it with her flawless Latin. As soon as Stiles was towel-clad again, he lent his less-perfect Latin but more certain-spark to the rite— the black smoke poured forth and he and Lyds both jumped back. No one wanted eau-de-brimstone on them on graduation day, thanks.

“C’mon, get dressed.” Derek was hustling Stiles into clothes in a reverse of their usual game, jamming his cap on his head and shoving Stiles into his robe, zipping his robe with the rough gentleness that was all Derek, even as Scott was calling all clear and Jackson was doing his usual gag-worthy knight-errant thing with Lydia. Eww.

Stiles fumbled the cards in his robe. his hands shaking hard because he didn’t dare get rid of the obsidian knife, he’d better keep it in the small of his back just in case more shit went down out in the sunlight. This _was_ Beacon Hills. 

“It’s going to be fine.” Derek smiled, zipped the robe the rest of the way, settled Stiles’ tie, then let Stiles settle Derek’s, which what? It really was a red-letter day, Derek in something other than leather or a wife-beater tank. 

“Your dad would shoot me if I showed up in less than a button-down shirt, demons be damned,” Derek said, then leant in and dropped a kiss at the edge of Stiles’ mouth. ”Go give your speech.”

“Stiles.” 

Lydia stood, tapping her foot, and next to her, the rest of the pack was waiting. And rolling their eyes, like the rest of them weren’t all coupled up and disgusting. Because Stiles and Derek were special or something. Still, Stiles wouldn’t keep his valedictorian waiting, even if he had been contrary and wouldn’t let her see his speech. He may have come in second, but at least that meant he got to speak first.

The pack (and National Honor Society, Team Human had whipped those werewolves into Academic Shape, thank you) proceeded out into the sun, up onto the stage, took their seats as Stiles’ dad (and ranking county official, oyez, oyez, you bitches) called the ceremony to order. 

And then it was Stiles’ turn. 

“We all read a lot of Hamlet, and we all know the scene about the ghost and the ‘more than dreamt in your philosophy’ bit.” Behind him, he could hear more than a few of the pack gasp, or growl. ”To me, the most important part of that speech isn’t the “HOHSHIT, HORATIO, GHOSTS ARE REAL,” speech, but what comes at the end. Hamlet says to his friend, 

_“Let us go in together; And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, That ever I was born to set it right! Nay, come, let’s go together.”_

He turned and looked at the pack. At his Dad. Chris Argent. Derek.

”There are times when it feels like everything’s wrong and will never be right ever again— when all we want to do is hide, like we deserve that right. But we can’t. And that’s when we make the decision to fight, to find our friends, to make the adult decision to say— we can’t always drag everyone in to our fights, but we can work together to fix things, even if it wasn’t our problem to start with. The world’s going to throw that at us over and over. It’s our choice to say… let’s go together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly still taking prompts in my askbox from [this list.](http://lettersfromeleanorrigby.tumblr.com/post/46214500414/even-more-drabbles>this%20list.</a>)


End file.
